


16. It's Okay. I Couldn't Sleep Anyway

by hellaskye



Series: 100 Ways To Say "I Love You" [16]
Category: Black Widow (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 03:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11865825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellaskye/pseuds/hellaskye
Summary: "03:43, and Clint can’t sleep. He’s tried every trick in the book, (literally. SHIELD psychologists once wrote a novel length thesis on Clint’s sleep habits), but still, he’s restless"





	16. It's Okay. I Couldn't Sleep Anyway

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact, 3:43 was the exact time of my birth! it's very auspicious. 
> 
> just a short drabble, but as always comments are appreciated.

16\. “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

 

03:43, and Clint can’t sleep. He’s tried every trick in the book, (literally. SHIELD psychologists once wrote a novel length thesis on Clint’s sleep habits), but still, he’s restless, and he’s trying to be quiet so Nat can get some rest. He doesn’t know how she can rest with everything that’s going on. With the fall of SHIELD, moving out of Bed-Stuy and into the new Avenger’s tower, forming the new Avengers team, plus getting used to the presence of Barnes, who was someone both he and Nat had been sent to kill, Clint didn’t feel like he’d be able to sleep for weeks.

He slips out of bed and sneaks out of the room he shares with Natasha, doing his best not to wake her up. He makes a thermos of decaf coffee and slips onto the roof, sitting in one of the recliners and gazing at the bright lights of early morning New York. He sits there, until he feels the recliner dip as Natasha’s weight is added to it.

“You know, I’m flashing back to Istanbul,” Clint remarks after a long stretch of comfortable silence. “Us, sitting on a roof, with tea and coffee.”

Natasha clinks her thermos against his in a toast, a soft smile on her face. “Except the city isn’t on fire, and I don’t have a bullet in my shoulder.”

Clint gives her a disgruntled expression and sticks his tongue out at her for ruining his memory. After another silence, he sighs.

“Sorry I woke you up,” he apologizes into the lightening night. Sleep is a rare treat for both of them, and Clint feels like he’s snatched Natasha’s away.

“It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway,” Nat shrugs, taking a sip of her tea. “Too much new stuff. My mind was racing; it wouldn’t settle down.”

So instead of sleep, they sit side by side on the skyscraper roof and make small talk until the sun makes its daily debut above the horizon.

“See, Tasha?” Clint gestures to New York, backlit in hues of sun orange and red. “Now it’s really like Istanbul. City on fire and everything.”


End file.
